Wednesday, August 31, 2005


by chinwhat at 6:43 p.m.
Because this deserves it's own entry... I only saw half an hour of the MTV awards show on Sunday, but I seen more than enough when I saw this:

Look at us... we love it...

Sunday, August 28, 2005


by chinwhat at 9:31 p.m.

Even though I think that some people have way to much time on their hands, I still appreciate small things like this:

As well, I had a link to The Perry Bible Fellowship a while back and haven’t visited the site since. That wacky comic strip site which I enjoyed quite a bit has some new editions! As well, his animations are pretty good too!

On Saturday YTV had Tremors on and I’ve got to say, it’s one of my favorite movies. Why? Who cares! This movie rocks! Hey, did you know that there’s a Tremors 4? (“There was a part 2/3?”) But I read that it’s supposed to be good! Allegedly… And there used to be a TV series back in 2K3! Who knew?

Thursday, August 25, 2005

Pooh Pooh, Ca Ca

by chinwhat at 9:21 p.m.
First defecation related story:
So I’m talking to a cool co-worker (who’s got a noticeable Chinese accent) about an external DVD burner I’m supposed to help her with. She’s wanted me to come up and show her how to use it. She's been on me for a couple of days now, but more important matters kept coming up. So one day, I’m on the phone with her...

Her: So when are you coming up to set it up for me?
Me: I’ll try and come up tomorrow. Okay?
Her: Oh, you say that all the time!
Me: But more important things came up.
Her: Yeah, right! You eat crap!
Me: (laughing) WHAT?!? I eat crap!?
Her: Yeah! You’re always talking crap to me! So that's why you eat it!
Me: (laugh x1000)

So a couple of days later, I see her in the caf and we’re just talking and stuff...

Me: I’m telling HR on you. You said that I eat crap.
Her: When did I say that?
Me: A couple of days ago! You said that I eat crap!
Her: No! I did not say that! (Using her accent to her advantage) I said ‘you eat crab!’ Crab like lobster! ‘You eat crab!’
Us: (laugh x1000)

Second: defecation related story:
Today at work, we held a ‘surprise’ wedding shower for one of my co-workers. We’re all supposed to be in the main boardroom where he’d be ambushed. With five minutes to spare, I get back from lunch and head towards my cubicle. Doing so, I pass by the washroom, right where my co-worker is heading. I drop off my bag at my desk and go to the lavatory to make sure there are no crumbs on my face (as there usually is) and I notice someone in one of the stalls taking a dump. Not only do I see my co-workers dress shoes, but I smell his bombs (Gat damn nikka!) I break the fuck out and head to the boardroom to join everyone else. Everyone’s there looking at their watch wondering where he could be. I swear, I’ve never EVER practiced such restraint in my life. IN MY LIFE, SON!!! The question came up: “Where’s Mike? It’s three O’clock!” and the answer I wanted to yell out: “He's in the washroom! He’s taking a huge fucking dump! And it really really fucking STAAANKS!!!” But no, I was good. I pierced my lips together, looked down at my shoes and giggled to myself.

WAR >sniff< >sniff< followed by the >gas face<
WAR the diarrhea song
WAR turds, poop, anal butter, chocolate banana, shit, dump, ass kabobs, turds, chubacca chunks, doo doo, mud, crap, crapola, fecal matter, etc etc etc...

Wednesday, August 24, 2005

#9 (aka Shaun Gets Mad @ My NonPhotoShop Skillz)

by chinwhat at 10:07 p.m.
The nine spot goes to Paula Garces. I can already hear you saying “Who the fock is Paula Garces?!?!” You seen “Harold and Kumar?” Then you seen PG! She’s the super hot one in that movie – and no, I’m not even counting that blonde chick with the tittays who played the freak’s wife. Garces is the one with the flavour! Spicey, god! Spice! I’m not talking salt and pepper spice, whitey! I’m talking paprika, mayne!! All day, errday! Now when top tens are mentioned, she never gets a sniff. She’s like that exclusive cut you’ve heard once, but forgot how hot it is. She’s that diamond in the rough. Only true appreciators of beauty (such as myself) can remember class such as this. Paula Garces, what!

In fact, she's so hot, in typical Chin fashion, I wouldn't know what to do with myself if I had to share a lift to get up to our flats...

WAR Photoshop free since 1978
WAR PG and Me

Tuesday, August 23, 2005


by chinwhat at 9:19 p.m.
Okay, it’s time to teach the babies. Because my taste in women is up here, and your taste is down (doooooown) here, I present to you my top ten list of famous women I find most attractive (as of Aug. 23, 2005). And for my first entry, it’s none other than Gwen Stefani. By far, the sexiest white girl – with or with out breasts – on the planet earth! Unfortunately, she slipped down to the ten spot from as high as seven over the past year for a couple of reasons. First, she’s become a too skinny! She used to have this nice figure, but now, she’s just some boney ass white girl. Second (and most damaging of all) she came out with an album that was straight hot garbage last year. Quite possibly, one of the worst/most disappointing records I’ve ever listened to in my life!!! (People actually like this?!? >looks in Ruby, The Dooch and Sara’s direction< I’d rather listen to BEP’s Bepot song!) Regardless, she’s still pretty hot “no doubt” (very shitty pun intended). Her lips, her big ass smile that's sweet as fuck, her energy, and her sweating all the time – a sign that she works hard. And everyone knows how much I *REALLY* appreciate that in a woman! - all these things earn her way into my top ten list! Congratulations Gwen!

Monday, August 22, 2005


by chinwhat at 9:56 p.m.

Now I’m not normally get wet with new products that come out on the market (who am I? Al?), but I’m all about these Crystal Light On The Go Packets. I know, I know; “Crystal Light!? Chin you fag!!” Well, what can I say? These things are pretty cool. Now I’m not necessarily endorsing Crystal Light, as much as I’m pimping the actual concept. What it is is a packet of Crystal Light mix enough to mix in a regular bottle of water. Open pack. Dump powder into bottle of water. Cap. Shake. Enjoy! Not only is it delicious, it's caffeine free, fat free, kosher (ai approved!), low in salt and sugar free!! “Fucking right!” Now I don’t use the word “hero” often, but the fine folks at Crystal Light/Kraft Foods are national heroes! This has got to be the greatest single invention since ergonomic friendly stool chairs!

Sunday, August 21, 2005


by chinwhat at 5:41 p.m.
So this is why Chris wanted to go to Japan! Their television there is fucking insane!!!

***WARNING: LINK IS *NOT* WORK SAFE (but it does NOT “suck!”)***

The best part? The rocks, paper, skissors! Laugh!!

I see you Chris, I see you!

Thursday, August 18, 2005


by chinwhat at 10:11 p.m.
Ever since I went to that soca jam during Caribana, I can’t get enough! It was one of the greatest experiences I’ve ever had! Everyone was there for a good time and each person had a big smile on their faces! Even the one fight I saw was quickly broken up by a bunch of people! The whole crowd was jumping up and down together, waving their flags and rags in the air, running left to right at the same time… it was awesome! I’d have to co-sign my sister’s comment “this is like, the most fun I’ve had at a club…EVER!!” Now, I find my self trolling through various West Indian sites and listening to!

Here are some reasons why:
- It’s easy to dance to. All you do is jump up and down, wave a towel or flag, or if it’s this song, you splash water on everyone!
- The accents pwn1 - MASH IT UP
- Wine!!
- Non-violent, happy and positive party music? Yes please!
- Driving becomes much more exciting!
- I get closer to my goal of having a nice ass since I always seem to flex my glutes when I’m sitting down and tuning into my soca jams.
- The food from which Soca music comes from does not suck!

Me loving Soca is on some magical, cosmic vibe! Today, I slept in and was running an hour late (whoops). And on Thursday mornings, I listen to Court Jester who usually plays Soca exactly at the time I drive in. But not today! Today he switched it up and played Reggae during the Soca time, and Soca during the Reggae time… which happened to be when I was driving into work today! How’s that for a coincidence??!

Right now, this is my favorite Soca song (say it with an accent): Shurwayne Winchester – Dead or Alive

WAR Soca4Life
WAR ties and short sleeve shirts
WAR props

Wednesday, August 17, 2005

"(She was just) Seventeen, if you know what I mean!" © The Beatles

by chinwhat at 10:20 p.m.
Last week, the RainManTwins and I (COOKSVILLE MASSIVE REPRESENT!!!) took in a speed dating event in Toronto. Simpledate(.com) was the orginzer, and since I heard it was fun, only $30 and wasn’t doing anything important on a Wednesday night, I figured ‘why not, who knows…” To start off, it didn’t help we got pseudo caught in the rain. Brown paranoia of smelling like wet dog began to penetrate my brain. (Memo to Shaun: consider wearing an undershirt. Your see through shirt – when it’s wet – ain’t kosher. You got dark ass nipples, yo!) When we get there, and quite frankly, I was mad disappointed! (Personal theme of the night: me failing to follow my own mantra: “No expectations means no disappointments”) Lots of women who were NOT my type: older and larger. We mulled awhile by the bar until it started. Thankfully, some *HOT* Chinese gals came to the event! (“Not Mu-shu. Mu-shu! I want to see some women. Now stop playing dumb and show me the shu” © Chin as Christ Tucker as Det. James Carter in Rush Hour 2) I really wasn’t sure what to expect, but it was pretty… well, I’d like to say ‘fun,’ but that’s to strong… I’ll say that it was un-notfun. After two hours and seventeen five minute dates later, it’s all a blur. Most conversations were pretty good. Some were really interesting, and maybe one or two were straight up awkward (“uh…. Yeah…. So……. >cough<” and that was her! Laugh!) I didn’t do as well as I’d like (too much arrogance from work) but maybe next time… They have a couple of events that seem cool (brown night, yellow night, and vball @ the d-docks!) so we’ll see… One thing that pseudo bothered me was when some dates asked me straight up 1) how old I was. WTF? Just because *THEY’RE* too old for me doesn’t mean that they get to ask such questions. And 2) what I did – job wise. I find this really rude. Might as well ask me to pull my joint out so they can tell me it’s too small. It’s pretty much the same thing! They need to step their etiquette game up!

WAR “Tron loves the tittays”
WAR “You’re girlfriend’s a doctor?” “Fucking right she’s a doctor!”
WAR “This is how I’m living… in the citaaaaaaaay”

Sunday, August 14, 2005

SurPrize, SurPrize!!!

by chinwhat at 10:45 p.m.
The golf part of the day was done so we were just kicking back until dinner and the part I was waiting for the most: prizes! I had at least an hour and a half to kill until all the teams finished. So I kicked it with some other people my age by the parking lot. Some of them brought their own “liqooor” which I thought was pretty amusing. After that, we all headed back for some dinner. Quite frankly, for a buffet, it did not suck! I ordered the vegetarian meal (gay, I know) while everyone else was enjoying roasted chicken and… steak! And it wasn’t some poor boy “chopped steak.” They were pushing 9oz slabs! Folks were enjoying the grub… so much, some went for seconds. I would’ve gone for more ‘salad,’ but nobody from my table decided to go for a second round. >sigh< Cursed shamity!! So the prize time came and I was excited! (A few days earlier, our secretary was punking a gift donated by a client. It was a (shitty) women’s hat that was purple and a t-shirt. I wanted it.) The bad news was that there weren’t enough prizes for everyone – WTF??! That’s what I get for not following my own motto: “No expectations, no disappointments” They had enough prizes for half of us and guess what… I didn’t get jack shit! I would’ve taken the golf balls. The comp stays at the HoJo by our work. The XXL t-shirts. Anything! >mumble mumble< >grumble grumble< That’s what really sucked. But what didn’t was meeting some cool people from work! Instead of running default conversations (classics such as “How’s it going?” or “Busy? Yeah? Me too!”) I actually have some other things to talk about.

WAR multipurpose events
WAR el communicatta
WAR olives in my shwarma

as a side note: i've noticed my stupid ass watching more and more golf propoganda on the tele. what the fuck's wrong with me?

Thursday, August 11, 2005

'Cause I Can't Stop, 'Cause I Won't Stop

by chinwhat at 8:00 p.m.
Uh, allegedly my blogs been having troubles. I think 'the man' is trying to shut me down. This is just a 'test' entry to see if it works... as opposed to a 'filler' entry because I had better things to do than write something... (oh punk!)

Tuesday, August 09, 2005

Tee, Chip, Put, Drive. Repeat. x18

by chinwhat at 9:44 p.m.
The big Saturday came and it was time to head on over to Burlington for the annual golf tournament. For antics (of course), I decided to dress ‘golfy.’ A golf shirt, my plaid trousers and hat to match! (The line used throughout the day when given props for my attire: “Thanks! I need to look like I at least know HOW to golf right? The points I miss on the course, I get in style.” Zing!)

So I make my way there and this place was pretty much in the middle of no where – much like other golf courses I’d imagine. When I get there, I check in with the HR ladies and they introduce me to half of my team. The director reminds me of really thin and pale version of Cameron Frye (), Ferris Bueller’s friend, but with less ‘80’s’ style hair, yet still very “poindexterish.” The other guy – who I thought was Jamaican based on his name (Marlon) turned out to be a Flip fob. He pretty much sucked ass all day.

I strap my golf clubs that my uncle handed down to me to the back of our cart. I checked everyone else’s club sets out and damn mine were busted, poor boy style! Folks strolling up there with CG bags with the bi-pod legs, the matching umbrella, the holder for water, golf club covers etc.

I take a seat in one of our carts and just wait for Ms. X to come by. She does and introduces herself… she doesn’t remember me… and I don’t recall her being so pleasant. Must be her charming English accent!

It’s our team’s turn and I’m second to hit. First is the fob whose shot was pretty terrible; two fans followed by a dribbler that rolls over a hill forty meters away. I’m next. Pretty nervous since there’s lots of folks watching: my team, the course warden (whose job is to make sure teams keep moving and confiscate illegally brought akahol), the next team after us, HR ladies and random people. Concentrating helped me fan lovely on the first swing! My second attempt shot the ball just past the women’s tee… which is ten yards down. Oy!! The director must’ve been pissed (I know I would’ve). At least I didn’t shank the ball to the left where a lot of cars were parked. If I hit one of those, THAT would’ve been embarrassing!

On our way to the third course, Ms. X (whom I’m riding in the cart with the ‘hole’ day… get it? “Hole”? Golf?... >cough< >cough<) asks me what department I worked for. After I told her, she did a double take/The Rock eyebrow cock/ head tilt; “were you the one I yelled at that one day a month or so ago?” I reply weakly “Uh… yeah…” She laughs, then apologizes. She said she had a rough day and didn’t mean it. She went on to tell a story how she felt bad as she mentioned what she did to my director/co worker. It was pretty funny. In fact, she met one of her co-workers along the way and introduced me as “that poor chap who I yelled at” to which she replied “you should do something to her” which is pretty funny because at the 13th hole I almost hit her in the face with the ball. The men’s tee was a bit elevated and I parked our cart between our tee and the women’s tee along the path. Ms. X was fixing her clubs as I swung. The ball went sharp left and was literally [..........................] this close from her face! If it hit her, she’d be down for sure! Out! Done! DONE!!! I felt soooooo bad! I apologized, but she said “don’t say ‘sorry’, nothing happened” Phew! I’d have to quit out of embarrassment! Instead, we just laughed it up and added it up to chapter 2 in our Ms. X vs. Chin battle.

As for the golf, we didn’t win. I did pretty shitty. But did do good once I got a beer in me, but as the day wore on, I began to crap out. After about thirteen, fourteen holes, I pretty much had enough. In theory, I could see why people like it… in theory… But driving the golf carts is good times! Shits fun, yo! I really wish I had cooler people on my team that was my age (ie. 21) - there was about a 20% YTM representation that day - because I caught myself "corporate laughing" at a lot of shitty moments. And yes, I felt really really dirty.

Random observation:
- hot white girls that old white men (and Shaun and Chris) would appreciate. Short shorts? I see you ladies working! Work for them tips!

Tomorrow: The prize count

Monday, August 08, 2005

The Background Story

by chinwhat at 10:24 p.m.
First off, I’d apologize for not updating often, but I’m not really sorry. A good mix of loafting-ness, lack of ideas and a *LOT* of D’Angelo dl’ing (I know ai, Alison and Becky gots my back on this one!) had me uninterested for a bit… anyways, on with the blog…

I’d say this happened two months back or so:
One Friday, all my co-workers were either on lunch or took the afternoon off. Me going dolo for our building and the corporate site across the street… the thing is I didn’t know that nobody was available to help until I got a certain phone call.

“Help desk, Chin speaking”
”Hi, this is (Mr. Misc) calling from corporate, can you please call (Ms. X)? She can’t seem to print. Thanks!"

I do a quick check in Outlook’s Address book and it turns out that (Ms. X) is the personal assistant to the CEO of our company (aka my boss’s boss’s boss’s boss’s boss.) I call with the quickness…

“Hi this is Chin from the TRO Help desk. I received a message saying you can’t print?”
”Yes. I can’t print and (IT VP person) and (IT support person) isn’t here”
(I begin to go through the routine questions) “Okay, are you able to open up your personal or share folders?”
”Okay, uhm, do you know how to get your VNC* number?” *(IPAddress so we can connect remotely to someone’s computer)
(In a straight forward tone) “I don’t know what that is!”
“Do you see the at the bottom right where the time is? There’s a bunch of icons. You don’t need to click on it, just put your mouse-“
“I don’t have time for this. Just come over” >click<
(I'm all screw faced, still holding the telephone reciever to my ear) “............”

Now at this point, I wasn’t sure exactly what I should do. I knew I should stay at my desk since that’s what I’m supposed to do… Yet, she is who she is! So after trying to get a hold of somebody – anybody! – I get a call from my supe. He somehow got wind of it and called me from his celly. He told me to get my ass there and *HOW* to get there because I’ve never been. I’ve never had to. Nor wanted to since it was mostly sales pigs and upper upper management. I liked my building – it was full of working stiffs… just like me. Grunt workers unite! Anyways, I nervously make my way across the street thinking to myself: “Self, you’d better fix this shit, because if you don’t, you’ll look like a big fucking idiot!” I get in and had to check in at reception – noting how pish posh it was. Ms. X comes and gets me and quickly orders “Here’s my computer, and I can’t print this.”
I look it over and play around (voice crackly like I was 16 again) “Uh, where’s your printer?”
“>sigh< It’s over there”

Lucky for me, it just printed and I make my way the fuck out! As I exit the reception area, some lady (I have no idea who she is or how she knew who I was) says: “I hope she wasn’t to mean to you”
(Trying to be as PC as possible) “Oh, no… she was, uh… (Voice wavers) ‘nice’” I skedaddle.

Fast forward to one month ago:
Annual golf tourney sign up begins. A co-worker from upstairs comes down to talk about some computer stuff. The topic of the golf event comes up and she hard core runs a sales pitch on me.
"You gotta go!"
"'I gotta go?'"
"You GOTTA go!!!"
And you know what? I was sold! I sign up since it sounded pretty good: wicked prizes, great food, lots of fun, good times, good times! What else could I want, right?

Fast forward to last week:
Random teams are announced. It’s moi, random director of finance (or something), some other person I didn’t know, and… Ms. X!!!

Me: (whispers) “shit!”

Tomorrow: What happened Saturday at the golf tourney.

WAR Voodoo Sessions